a pre-thanksgiving hangout (check out our giant, juicy turkey!)
stephen, a bantie hen and a bantie rooster.
stephen tried to make the tree work, but as you can see, she settled for the porch railing. the bantie hens claimed the tree.
mr. rooster. ]
Welcome President Obama
I’ll be the grapes fermented,
Bottled and served with the table set in my finest suit
Like a perfect gentlemen
I’ll be the fire escape that’s bolted to the ancient brick
Where you will sit and contemplate your day
I’ll be the waterwings that save you if you start drowning
In an open tab when your judgement’s on the brink
I’ll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
Albums back as your lying there
Drifting off to sleep…
I’ll be the platform shoes
And undo what heredity’s done to you…
You won’t have to strain to look into my eyes
I’ll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped straight to the throat
With the collar up so you won’t catch a cold
I want to take you far from the cynics in this town
And kiss you on the mouth
We’ll cut out bodies free
From the tethers of this scene,
Start a brand new colony
Where everything will change,
We’ll give ourselves new names
Identities erased
The sun will hear the grounds
Under our bare feet in this brand new colony
Everything
Will change
well, after many bandages and warnings to morton that a cone may be in order.. he finally gnawed off his bandage that the vet made. i took him back today, and they said “cone!”
new flannel sheets, morton’s lame leg, adam and i
the leg which he has now been to the vet for. he won’t stop pickin’!
my highly political school bag (the obama button was bought at the county fair, the ivote pin is from WVC)
